


Get to the place we both know where we need to be

by Marishna



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, College Student Derek, College Student Stiles, Derek Hale & Scott McCall are Related, Derek Has a Crush on Stiles, Drunk Derek, Drunk Stiles, Drunk Texting, Drunken Confessions, First Kiss, Lydia and Stiles are step-siblings, M/M, Matchmaker Scott, Past Kate Argent/Derek Hale, Scott McCall & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, Stiles Has a Crush, matchmaker kira
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-17
Updated: 2016-09-17
Packaged: 2018-08-15 13:13:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8057785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marishna/pseuds/Marishna
Summary: Stiles was at the house again.
Fuck, Derek thought to himself, then immediately thumped his head lightly against the living room wall because he honestly wasn't sure if he meant that as a curse or verb.





	Get to the place we both know where we need to be

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt "Stretch yourself" at fullmoon_ficlet on LJ. I also filled two 1_million_words (LJ) bingo prompts with this fic, "I’m not asking for life coaching, I’m just asking if you know where I left my underpants." and "I’m too drunnk and old for this…"

Stiles was at the house again.

_Fuck_ , Derek thought to himself, then immediately thumped his head lightly against the living room wall because he honestly wasn't sure if he meant that as a curse or verb. 

When his uncle Peter married Scott's mom, Melissa, Derek wasn't sure what was going to come along with that. He and Scott were both teenagers at the time; old enough to have their own interests, hobbies and potentially clashing personalities. Turns out the only thing Derek needed to worry about was _Stiles_.

Stiles was Scott's best friend and while he originally started out as a pain in Derek's ass (the kid would incessantly talk about the weirdest things, pester him with questions, follow him around and generally distract him from studying and being "too cool" to hang out with freshmen) he was far from that now. Sometime between when Derek went off to college and now, back in Beacon Hills as a graduate, Scott and Stiles had also started college and Stiles... well. Stiles had gotten _hot_.

Derek worked full time for the summers between his sophomore and senior years of college and didn't make it home very often so his exposure to Stiles was limited to catching up on Facebook. He'd noticed, without really paying attention, that Stiles had grown up physically; lost the baby fat from his face, grew his hair out and was about as tall as Derek was. They didn't chat or exchange more than happy birthday or holiday greetings on Facebook because Derek was busy and distracted and. And.

"And a total idiot," he grumbled to himself as he padded into the kitchen to start a pot of coffee. 

He'd been home for three weeks, working for a local landscaping company as he tried to figure out what he wanted to do with his history degree. Grad school? Teaching? Backpacking through Europe? Did anyone do that anymore?

He thought before he went to school that he had it all figured out and his years of studying hard would pay off in the long run. Meeting Kate in junior year seemed like a sign and that part of his life was happening a bit sooner than expected. He didn't date much in college because he didn't want to take his eye off the prize of graduation with a top GPA and also because he felt like a fish out of water among college girls. Kate was forward, beautiful, and eager to show him the ropes. 

Turned out she was just using him because she thought he could get access to the private files of a professor Derek assisted by tutoring freshmen. Once she learned he wasn't a TA, just a lowly tutor, she dumped him in a text message and he never saw her again. A few months later he heard she'd been caught sleeping with a different professor and was expelled for cheating, and the professor was fired.

After that debacle Derek kept his nose in the books and didn't think about dating again. Until arriving back in Beacon Hills. 

Derek saw more of Stiles in his first three weeks back than he had in the past three years. Sometimes Scott wasn't even home from his job assisting the local vet and Derek would arrive home to Stiles sprawled on their couch, watching TV and Snapchatting or something equally as bizarre in the living room. At first, Derek would ignore him, escaping to his room and shutting out the world until Scott got home and could act as a buffer.

But one random day Stiles caught Derek peeking around the doorway way and gestured him inside eagerly. Derek sat stiffly on the couch next to Stiles' sunk-low, legs-spread form and let Stiles talk at him at length, contributing a few nods and grunts here and there until Melissa came home and Stiles helped her start supper.

The Sheriff married Mrs. Martin when Stiles was in school the fall earlier and Derek got the impression Stiles didn't feel comfortable in the combined Stilinski-Martin household. Maybe because they were living in the Martin house, maybe because Derek knew Stiles had a massive crush on Lydia Martin for the longest time before they became step-siblings and Stiles discovered he was bisexual. Either way it seemed like Stiles felt more at home here in the McCall-Hale house than in what was supposed to be his own.

Derek couldn't say he was complaining.

The realization that he wasn't bothered by Stiles being around so much and _why_ then became the issue. Because Derek had his stupid college fling with Kate and it was enough for him to want to stay away from romantic complications and focus on what he wanted to do with his life instead. He wanted to know what to study or what kind of job he'd be good at. Wanted to save some money and maybe get his own apartment. 

Wanted to know anything in his life as well as he knew the pattern of moles scattered across Stiles' face or the way his laugh sounded when he was truly taken off guard.

Derek crossed his arms and slumped with his back against the counter as he thought, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't hear Stiles stir until he shuffled into the kitchen with the blanket from the back of the couch wrapped around his waist.

Derek hadn't noticed when he found Stiles curled up on the couch, covered from neck to ankle with that very blanket, that Stiles was shirtless underneath. 

Derek's eyes travelled lower to where the blanket wasn't held as tightly in Stiles' grip and an expanse of smooth skin on his hip peeked out. Stiles was too blurry eyed to notice Derek staring and instead let out a moan as he pitched toward the coffee maker, hair in disarray in a way that made Derek wonder if someone made it look like that.

"Coffee?" Stiles croaked, looking up at Derek hopefully. He was glad he put on the whole pot now.

"Almost done," Derek replied as his eyes did another once over on Stiles.

This time, he noticed and Stiles pulled the blanket closer around himself, mustering as much dignity and aplomb he could considering the circumstances.

"There may have been some drinking involved if you must know," Stiles said by way of an explanation.

"Someone served you?" Derek asked, wondering why he hadn't been so lucky before he was legal.

"Kira's already twenty-one," Stiles replied with his eyes closed as he swayed gently from side to side. "And she's evil."

"How's that?" Derek asked, crossing his arms across his chest as Stiles opened his eyes.

Stiles groaned. "She uh, she's deadly at beer pong."

"She does have pretty good aim," Derek agreed, remembering a demonstration she gave the previous Halloween at how good she was with throwing stars because she had authentic ones as part of her _Resident Evil_ costume. Mentioned they were family heirlooms or something, while Scott looked on in adoration.

"Deadly," Stiles repeated. 

"Is Scott feeling this poorly, as well?" Derek asked. He heard the coffee maker finally click off and turned to grab a couple mugs out of the cupboard. He made Stiles' quickly and handed it over before making his own.

Stiles stared at the mug in his hand for a few seconds with a confused look before shrugging and taking a sip, then letting out a sound that should be banned in all 50 states. "I don't know how you make this so _good_ and I don't care," Stiles said with a pleased smile on his lips. "As for Scotty, I don't know. Last I saw him he was doing belly shots off Kira or something, I don't remember."

"You left without him? And came here?" Derek asked, surprised.

Stiles looked uncomfortable. "It was easier to walk here than home," he said even though they both knew damn well that wasn't true. Stiles would've had to walk a couple miles through the woods, easily, to reach the house. Drunk and without Scott that would have been a long and lonely walk, not to mention dangerous. 

"You should have called me, I would have come to get you," Derek chided. Stiles made a face so Derek didn't push. "Got plans for the day?" Stiles sighed and grumbled.

"Family dinner. Lydia's back for a couple weeks from Boston before starting her internship at some important think tank or something. I'm sure I'll hear all about it tonight." Stiles looked around in the kitchen and swore when he saw the time. "Shit, I have plans to meet with dad to go grocery shopping in fifteen minutes. Have you seen any random pieces of clothing around, by any chance?"

Derek blinked. He looked down quickly at where Stiles was still clutching at the blanket around himself, then looked down and scanned the floor while his cheeks heated up. "I don't think so?"

"Damn," Stiles mumbled and awkwardly walked back to the living room clutching the coffee cup.

Derek trailed after him and made a half-hearted attempt to look behind the couch cushions while Stiles bent behind one of the chairs to search. Derek couldn't help it if he let his eyes wander, taking in the long, pale expanse of Stiles' lightly-dotted back.

"Found my shirt!" Stiles announced, triumphantly holding up the war of fabric in his hand. 

"Do you have plans with Scott tonight, too? After your dinner? More drinking?" Derek asked. He looked behind the love seat and came back with a pair of khakis. 

"Awesome!" Stiles accepted them and shrugged. "Not sure. Scott hasn't let me know if he's doing something with Kira. I don't want to get roped into some family thing, not gonna lie. Have you seen my underwear?"

Derek could feel the tips of his ears heat up and was sure he was red. "N-no? Um, if you want a way out, I mean if you don't want to make something up or whatever. Um, I don't know if drinking would be the best option but, uh—"

"Dude, I can make up my own excuse, don't worry. No life coaching necessary," Stiles laughed cutting Derek off. "I just need to know if you can help me find my boxers. Ah, fuck it. Throw them in with Scott's stuff if they turn up, will you?"

Derek watched helplessly as Stiles made a quick trip to the bathroom. A minute later he was clothed (and Derek had to fight with himself not to let his eyes drift south) and his hair seemed to have been hastily wet and an attempt made to force it into a neater style. He put his empty coffee mug in the kitchen sink before ducking back into the living room to put the folded blanket back on the couch.

"Thanks Derek. Catch you later!" Stiles said with a brilliant flash of a smile and then he was gone.

Derek put his own mug on the coffee table with a loud clack, then sunk down on the couch and replayed their conversation and his failure at human speech.

"What the _fuck_ ," he hissed to himself.

***

That night Melissa was working the overnight shift at the hospital so Peter asked some friends over for a poker game. He asked Derek to sit in and since he didn't have anything better to do, because of his own fuck up, he said yes. 

Within an hour he was tapped out on quarter bets and half cut because Peter was evil and mixed his drinks as triples. By the time Derek pushed away from the table he had to steady himself so he wouldn't trip over his own damn feet.

"You okay?" Scott asked when Derek made his way into the living room where Scott and Kira were watching a movie.

"Peter made the drinks," Derek explained and Scott let out a snort of laughter.

"No explanation needed. Only needed to see my mom buzzed once," Scott told him. He waved at the love seat. "Sit, watch this shitty b-movie about a killer tornado with us."

Derek did as he was told, not having anything better to do, and slumped down onto the love seat. He was drunk enough that the movie was funny to him and he found himself laughing out loud more than once at the stupidity of the characters.

At some point Derek shifted on the seat and put his hand down to move but felt something under him instead. From between the cushions be pulled up a pair of Batman boxer shorts.

"Uh," Derek said, then snickered lightly.

Scott sighed. "Those are Stiles. He mentioned to be on the lookout for them."

"Stiles', huh?" Derek replied, staring at them. He didn't know how long he looked at them until he heard Kira whisper, not-too-loudly he had to say, "You were right, he's _so_ crushing on Stiles."

"Drunk, not deaf, guys," Derek said, looking over at them. Kira turned red but Scott sat up a bit and narrowed his eyes.

"You might as well be deaf. And blind, dude." 

Derek blinked. "Sorry?"

"Stiles! You like him!"

"And..." Derek was so confused.

"Why do you think he spends so much time here?" Scott asked in a tone that made Derek feel like he was four.

"Because he's your best friend?" Derek tried. 

Scott rolled his eyes. "I'm working most of the time when he's here. Last night was the first time we've gone out together since we've been back. He's been here, on this couch or in the kitchen or in my room with the door open—all to see you, jackass!"

"What?" Derek asked dumbly. "Why?"

Kira sighed. "Why do you like Stiles?" She asked.

"He's funny," Derek replied before he could think about it. "I mean—"

"You said it. He's funny. What else?" Scott pushed.

Derek was quiet for a second. "He's smart. He's grown up a lot."

"So?" 

"So what?" Derek asked.

"What are you going to do?" Scott burst out. "He's sure you see him as just a kid who's friends with his sorta-step brother!"

Derek mulled over Scott's words. "Are you sure?"

 Kira and Scott both groaned, then Scott looked around before pushing off the couch and running out of the room. He returned a quickly, with half a bottle of whisky and a piece of paper. He shoved them both at Derek who accepted them slowly.

"What—"

"Liquid courage and his cell. He's at home tonight, bored out of his skull listening to how awesome Boston is. And if you do something and then use being drunk as a cop out I'll—I'll. Um. I'll—Kira, help me out?" Scott turned to his girlfriend, unable to come up with a suitable threat.

"I'll find all your most embarrassing photos and post them on Facebook and tag all your college friends," Kira supplied.

It honestly wouldn't bother Derek too badly if that happened but he got it. Loud and clear. Stiles had matchmakers and bodyguards rolled into one adorably badass package. 

Scott tried to stare him down until he got off the couch and disappeared to his room but it was Kira's steely stare that really made him move. Someone with that much control over ninja throwing stars wasn't someone he wanted to cross, after all.

In his room Derek stared down at Stiles' number feeling stupid. He was making too big a deal out of this. He was a grown man who'd graduated college and had adult relationships before. They didn't always end on the best terms, but then who had a perfect track record? Scott seemed to have good relationships with his exes...

Derek shook his head and took a long drink straight from the bottle. It was foolish, really. He'd seen Stiles grow up! He knew the dork Stiles was and yet still had a raging crush on him. 

But Stiles had also seen Derek grow up, too. And if what Scott said was true Stiles didn't see Derek as the awkward older quasi-brother. Or he did and liked it...

Derek shook his head and took another drink. He grabbed his phone and typed in Stiles' number, then sat with it in one hand, the bottle in the other and no idea what to say.

***

As Derek slowly became conscious he felt three things. 

01) His head was throbbing. His brain felt like it was beating against his skull in time with his heartbeat and that was unacceptable.

02) The sun was _way_ too bright. Usually, he remembered to close his blinds at night but clearly that hadn't happened and since it was shining directly into his eyes it was also about an hour later than he usually woke up.

03) There was a solid line of heat at his back, radiating on him and making him feel overheated. 

Derek very, very slowly rolled over away from the sun and cracked one eye open carefully. 

If he weren't very aware he'd likely fall out of bed he probably would have jerked backwards from the sight of Stiles in his bed. Sharing his pillow. Curled toward him, as if they'd been spooning at some point in the night. 

The idea of smacking his head on something hard and passing out for a few days was a good idea, actually.

Derek very carefully worked his way out of bed and shuffle-tip toed to the bathroom. He pissed and bit back a relieved groan, then brushed his teeth for what felt like five minutes, adding more toothpaste to scrub his whole mouth twice. He washed his face and as he did the cloth dripped onto his naked chest. Where in the hell...

He shuffled back to his room and found the bed empty.

" _Fuck_ , I'm hallucinating," he moaned and shut the blinds before easing himself back into bed. He threw his arm over his eyes and tried to will the pounding in his head and heart away, trying to remember how much of the whisky he drank before passing out. At least he made it to his bed. Did he even text Stiles?

Before Derek could panic and search for his phone he felt the bed dip and the blankets get rearranged as someone settled in beside him. He slowly moved his arm and looked up, making out Stiles' form in the darker room.

"Brought you these," Stiles said with a faint smile on his lips. He held his hand out but Derek had to sit up gingerly to accept two pills and a large glass of water. Derek gulped them back and drank the whole glass down. Stiles took the glass back and put it on Derek's bedside table, then turned back to him with his hands folded in front of him.

"Rough night," Stiles commented, watching Derek closely.

"So it would seem," Derek agreed, his voice gravely.

"At least you've got your underwear on," Stiles teased and for a second Derek panicked mentally and wanted to check to be sure. "You are, don't worry" Stiles assured him like he could read Derek's mind.

"What are you doing here?" Derek asked, so confused.

Stiles nodded and looked down at his hands that were twisting and bending in his lap. "You, uh. You texted me. Then called me. You... don't remember any of it?"

Derek shook his head slowly, partly because he was trying to piece things together and also because if he went quickly he'd probably be sick. Stiles sighed and thumbed his phone open, then showed it to Derek.

He blinked and squinted until his eyes focused on the words on the screen, growing red as he understood the texts.

_10:46 p.m.: If you r bored you sould come vist me._

_11:05 p.m.: Scoot said yu like me ! Im ok w that_

_11:08 p.m. Ined to tll yu smthing_

_11:08 p.m.:( No wait.,_

_**11:12 p.m.: Derek? You okay, buddy?** _

_11:15 p.m.: Stle! Talking s better can we d o tha?_

_11:17 p.m.: I'm too drunnk and old for this..._

Derek covered his eyes with one hand while shoving the cell back at Stiles with the other. 

"Then I called you? Did I make _any_ sense?" Derek asked, keeping his eyes covered.

"Enough," Stiles replied and when Derek looked at him he was watching Derek tentatively.

"I'm sorry, Stiles. I made an ass of myself," Derek said softly, body flush from embarrassment.

"I figured," Stiles replied lightly, but there was something in his voice that made Derek look at him again. A hitch that was so far from Stiles' usual 'both barrels' approach to everything.

"I just mean I was being stupid, right? Drunk and not thinking right. I shouldn't have put you in that position. Or Scott, actually," Derek tried to explain but wasn't sure what the hell he was even saying.

"Scott wasn't wrong," Stiles said. "I _do_ like you."

Derek tried to force a laugh. "Yeah, but as his stupid older brother, right?"

Stiles sighed. "No, Derek. I like you as someone I drove over to see last night because I was worried and a little hopeful that maybe what I feel isn't one-sided. I like you as a guy who climbed into bed with you and listened to you try to convince me that a tornado movie would be a great first date thing to watch. I like you as someone who wants to go out on a date with and see if you like me as much as I've liked you for a few years."

Derek's heart thumped hard in his chest and he let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. "Seriously?" his voice was barely a whisper.

"For such a smart guy you're dumb when it comes to people," Stiles told him gently, reaching out to push back some of his unruly bedhead. "How do you feel?"

"Confused," Derek admitted with a nod.

Stiles slid closer in the bed until their legs were touching. "If I kissed you would if be less confusing?"

Derek nodded. "I think so. I brushed my teeth!" he added quickly.

Stiles laughed. "I don't care, you dork." He cupped Derek's cheek and held him still while he leaned in and brushed their lips together gently. Derek didn't resist so Stiles pushed in, capturing Derek's mouth firmly. It was chaste and quiet but for Derek it was perfect. 

"Wanna sleep more or make out?" Stiles asked as he pulled back, keeping his hand on Derek's cheek, rubbing his fingers over his stubble.

Derek thought about it, then shrugged as he finally admitted, "I don't know."

Stiles grinned. "We'll wing it."

Derek nodded. "Okay."


End file.
